


i am covered in skin / no one gets to come in

by sonofabitch_awesome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (at least I hope), Basically PWP, Bottom Dean, Dean In Love, Dean and Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Feels, First Time, Human Castiel, M/M, Playlist, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, This turned out way longer than I intended, Top Castiel, although again I tried to /have/ a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3385010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/sonofabitch_awesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unspecified post-Mark, human-Castiel.</p><p>Dean and Cas's first time together comes after a hunt nearly ends wrong. There is no "Dean has feelings" tag, but he definitely gets all emotional in his own thoughts. <3</p><p>Song playlist at the end! Links to Youtube.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when are things ever easy?

**Author's Note:**

> Good lord. This story. I was only wanting to write a little first-time PWP, and _wow_ , did this get away from me. It didn’t help that I dabbled with putting together a Destiel-y playlist together and then thought “yeah, think I’ll put lyric-inspired phrases here and there.” 
> 
> Title comes from Counting Crows – Colorblind. I thought I’d work in more lines inspired by this song, but I guess it’s more the melody and mood of the song than the lyrics. _Beautiful_ song if you get the chance.
> 
> Rating is Explicit, but the first chapter is Teen rated and mostly for language.
> 
> I refer to 9x08 "Rock and a Hard Place" very briefly as "a couple of weeks ago", so I guess it's AU middle of season 9.

**i am covered in skin / no one gets to come in**

This was supposed to be a quick and easy hunt. _Fuck_. He should have known. When are things ever easy?

Why hadn’t they at least listened to Sam? “ _Oh, no, it’ll be easy enough, we’ll be fine_ ,” Dean mocks his own earlier words in his thoughts. _“Cas needs the experience and I’ll be right there with him.” Idiot…_

The two demons had turned out to be three. Dean and Cas had only found this out when Cas had started to recite the exorcism, and suddenly started choking on the words. He’d fought it and then blood began spurting from his mouth with each syllable as Numero Tres stepped in from the hallway.

Dean had thrown holy water on all three of them, and taken advantage of their distracted wailing to toss the demon knife over to Cas. Cas managed to stab the surprise third demon while still coughing up blood, but then his breath was coming in wheezes and his knees were smacking the ground.

The holy water’s effects don’t last. The remaining demons are over it now, one of them for both Dean and Cas using telekinesis to slowly squeeze their throats shut. Cas slumps over onto his side now, still speckling the ground with blood as he coughs again. _Fuck_. If they make it out alive, Dean vows, he’ll do something about this thing between himself and Cas. He’s done holding back.

Dean kicks out frantically, uselessly, trying to reach the demon closest to him. No luck. “Exorciz—,” he tries to say, but his throat’s closing now too, and the words don’t have any effect. He checks on Cas as air gets damn near impossible to get into his lungs. 

Cas isn’t coughing anymore. His breath is starting to slow, too, and his eyes are shutting. His entire body slackens as he loses his last hold on consciousness.

_No._

Dean loses it. He flings himself the last few inches to reach the knife, flinging it across at the demon currently squeezing his throat shut. The demon staggers back, and with the hold on him broken, Dean gasps in a lungful of air, beginning the exorcism for the last demon. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica protestas…,” he begins, not stopping the bastard but holding him off for a second while he retrieves the knife. He doesn’t bother to finish and instead plunges the knife into the last demon’s meatsuit.

And then he’s back across the room, on his knees and fisting the lapels of Cas’s trench coat. Gently, he rolls him onto his back. “Cas?” he pleads. “Come on. Come on, man.”

There’s no answer. Dean’s heart stutters. “Please,” he begs. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t, you dick.” He curls over to put his head on Cas’s chest, listening for the sound of Cas’s heart. It’s there. It’s… Thank fuck, it’s still there. Dean lifts his head above Cas’s nose and lips. He’s breathing, but reedily. Dean exhales roughly, one hand still on Cas’s jacket and the other on one of Cas’s upper arms. Waiting.

Cas emits a short groan, and his lashes move against the bags below his eyes a couple of times before his eyelids flutter open. He gives a couple of failed cough attempts, and then coughs again, harder. No blood this time, although it’s still staining his lips and shirt.

“Oh, thank God, Cas,” Dean breathes, still holding onto him. Every last ounce of denial of his feelings for Cas has fled during the rush of relief currently threatening to drown him.

“The other demons?” Cas asks, glancing around and then sliding his gaze over to Dean. Dean nods, still feeling unsteady. He can’t quite formulate additional words right now. Cas frowns. “Are _you_ okay?” he asks, reading the anxiety in Dean’s face.

“Yeah,” Dean says, his voice cracking. “Yeah, I-I’m fine.” He’s not anywhere near over the terror yet, though, so almost unthinkingly he kneels further down to rest his head on Cas’s shoulder, holding onto Cas’s upper arms with a firm but shaking grip. _God, I thought I lost you_ , he thinks, still freaked.

“I’m okay,” Cas reassures him. His arm moves up against Dean’s briefly and his hand brushes the side of Dean’s head; wiping the blood off his mouth and chin. He squeezes onto Dean’s forearm before relaxing back again. “We’re both all right.”

Dean steels himself and leans back slightly, staring at Cas. In the heat of battle it was such a simple thing to recognize, that realization of _I need this, need him_ , but now, here, it’s actually scarier than thinking they had no way out. His palms drift higher, brushing against Cas’s cheeks.

It’s like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff or something, Dean thinks distantly, too lost within Cas’s eyes to come up with a better simile. And there’s plenty of room, hell, plenty of _reason_ , to back off to safety. But more waiting on that other side here. If he can only bring himself to fall…

Cas doesn’t say anything, simply doing his “I’m trying to read every thought you’ve ever had” stare right back at Dean. Dean takes this as a sign that it’s okay, and closes the distance between them.

It’s not the best kiss he’s ever had. For one, he’s crooked so far over his back is screaming in protest the entire time, the ache a constant presence at the edge of his subconscious. For another, Cas’s lips are dry, chapped, post-battle time not exactly conducive to a makeout session. But Cas’s hands are on his arms, steadying him, and Dean’s finally let himself do this, despite it being the hardest thing in the world to do, to cross that last line.

Dean pulls away with a soft smacking of lips, his palms still resting on Cas’s stubbled jaw. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to gauge Cas’s reaction.

Cas still simply watches him, his brow furrowed and his gaze searching. He looks… uneasy. Anxious. Almost afraid.

 _Dammit_. Dean can practically _hear_ his world come crashing down over his shoulders. 

Dean swallows hard and straightens back on his heels, his back cracking. “Um,” he says pointlessly. “Sorry. Sorry, I, uh…” What the hell is the point of finishing that sentence? Sorry he basically assaulted his best friend? Sorry for being a chick?

Instead of saying anything else, he reaches a hand forward, prompting. “Let’s get out of here, huh?” They make short work of the bodies and clean up as best they can, making sure they’ve left no fingerprints before beating a hasty exit.

The car ride home is quiet and awkward. Two times Dean can tell Cas is glancing over at him, but he stares determinedly out the windshield, jaw clenching and fingers tightening on the steering wheel. The silence is impossibly loud, so Dean turns on the radio and doesn’t hear a single word of the Aerosmith song that’s playing.

He desperately hopes he didn’t ruin things between them. He’s sick, is what he is. Diseased. What the fuck had possessed him?

And even if Cas hadn’t been repelled… Dean can’t ruin his life, too. He’s done too many awful things to have that kind of relationship with _anybody_ , let alone his best friend in the world. He’s broken to the core and he’ll break anyone he touches. An angry angel's voice echoes in his mind. _When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost..._

He’s no idiot. He knows – has known for a long time now – that Cas loves him, in a slightly different tone than Dean had acted upon back there. And he doesn’t understand why. He and Sam are family – no choice. Cas _has_ a choice. And Cas, idiot that he is, has chosen Dean’s side over and over and over again. Choosing him over Heaven. What kind of (former angel human-type) person _does_ that?

Dean refuses to let himself be greedy and ask for _more_. It’s wrong.

Two miles away from the Bunker, Cas is the first to break the silence, reaching over to turn the volume knob down before speaking. “Dean, I—”

“Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean cuts him off. “I shouldn’t have done that, back there.” He still can’t look at him.

“I wanted to s—”

Dean shakes his head and gestures in a vague motion forward. “No, you know what? I was wrong. I’m sorry. Let’s not... let this get weird,” he says, knowing fully well it’s already weird.

Cas allows the silence to saturate the car again. 

 


	2. stop running away from this

Back at the Bunker, they’re standing uncomfortably in the war room when Sam walks out of the kitchen with a half-eaten sandwich. “Hey, guys. How’d it go?”

“All right,” Dean shrugs. “There were three though. Got iffy but I’d call it a win.” Cas nods in agreement.

Sam frowns suspiciously at them. “You guys all right?”

Dean drops down into a seat at the table. “Fine,” he answers, rubbing a palm over his face. “Just, you know. After the adrenaline, whatever.” He hears a chair screech against the floor a short ways down, and then the rustling of the trench coat as Cas sits down.

“All right…” Sam says uncertainly. “Well, either of you hungry? I still got everything out for ham and cheese, so…”

“No, I’m fine,” Cas tells him. “Dean?”

“I’m okay,” Dean replies, glancing back up to Sam. “Not really hungry right now.” Sam gives him a funny look, and darts his gaze over to Cas. When Dean checks, yes, Cas is staring blatantly at him again. _Oh, man._

“Well, I’m gonna go watch a movie, and then I think I’m making it an early night,” Sam says uneasily. “Glad things went all right.”

Subtle as a flamethrower. If he only saw Cas’s face after Dean had kissed him…

“’Kay, Sammy, good night,” Dean waves, barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. He concentrates on the map in front of him.

After Sam finishes in the kitchen and hurries off to bed, Dean sees Cas lean forward in his seat out of the edge of his peripheral vision. “So.”

Finally, Dean looks at him. “So.” 

Cas doesn’t seem angry, thankfully. More concerned, Dean would guess. There is a bit of hurt, though, which is killing Dean. “We should talk,” he says.

“No, you know what, Cas? I was out of line. Talk over,” Dean pronounces with no room for discussion. “I fucked up. It’s okay.” He shoves his chair back and stands, starting for the kitchen to get a beer.

Cas catches his wrist as he walks past, bringing Dean to a complete halt. “Stop.” Dean watches in apprehension as Cas gets to his feet, feeling his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

No personal space. Cas stands right there in front of him, maybe six inches away if Dean is estimating high. “ _Stop_ running away from this,” Cas orders.

Holy shit… Maybe he misinterpreted things back there.

Cas’s gaze flickers unmistakably to Dean’s mouth, and Dean licks his lips automatically. Cas’s eyes are wide.

Yeah, he _definitely_ might have misread things back there.

And then, quite suddenly, they’re kissing, both part of it this time. Dean is caught completely by surprise by Cas’s fervent response; it feels like a weight dropping from his shoulders. He slips his fingers up into Cas’s hair, all teenager neediness and frantic desire. Cas slides his hands into Dean’s jacket, up to his shoulders and forces it down to his forearms; Dean has to let go of him to shrug free. And then the jacket is rumpling down to the ground and they’re moving unsteadily and half-blind out of the war room.

Dean won’t have any idea later _how_ the hell they make it back to his bedroom without falling all over the place. It feels like they should need able to see more than they actually are; they’re _barely_ looking where they’re going. The door to his bedroom slams hard against the wall as they stagger into the room, and they break apart for only as long as it takes Dean to shut and lock the door.

And then Cas is on him again, shoving him up against the door and trailing his lips down Dean’s neck. “You were driving me crazy there,” he murmurs between kisses.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says pathetically, just as overwhelmed now as he was the day Cas walked into the barn, sending literal sparks flying and flashing. He slides his hands into Cas’s trench coat and shoves it back away from him. “I j—I didn’t think you’d—” Cas pushes his knee right up between Dean’s thighs, and Dean has to stop all semblance of speech. Every single touch is making him fall further apart.

“Didn’t think I’d what?” Cas breathes into his neck, lifting his head up to lock their gaze together. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want this?” He starts to undo the tie, yanking at it when the knot doesn’t come undone right away.

Dean slips his fingers into the knot, making short work of it and throwing the tie over Cas’s shoulder when it’s freed. “Bed. Now,” he mutters, shoving back at Cas’s chest.

They lose Cas’s belt and suit jacket on the way to the mattress, and Dean wonder somewhere in the back of his mind if Cas will ever get out of the habit of occasionally wearing the full angel outfit despite being human for a while now. It’s a comfort thing for him, and God knows Dean still finds it sexy, but it’s incredibly annoying right now to have that many layers of clothes in the way.

They fall gracelessly tangled onto the bed, Dean sprawled over Cas. And Cas is inept, uncoordinated, having only slept a few women (or men?) since becoming human. But everything he does is still _so_ right, even when he grasps the bottom of Dean’s shirt and rips it straight up without bothering to undo any buttons and it tangles ridiculously around Dean’s head.

All Dean can do is laugh and pull it back down, unfastening the first two buttons. But Cas is entirely too impatient and jerks at it again, finally slipping it over Dean’s head and hurling it away. It lingers on the very edge of the bed and falls after a second. 

“Jeez, Cas, hurry much?” Dean chuckles against his lips. “We’ve got _all night_ , you know.” He undoes the buttons on Cas’s shirt as fast as he can, his actions at odds with his teasing.

“I need you now, though,” Cas growls, clumsily shedding his shirt, and shit if those words in that sex-voice don’t go straight to Dean’s dick. It’s physically painful now to keep his jeans on, so he undoes both of their pants and lifts off to kick out of his own before tugging at Cas’s black pants. Cas is the one to remove their underwear.

Once they’re both naked and rutting against each other, uncertainty starts to creep into Cas’s eyes. His mouth works, like he’s trying to ask something but isn’t sure how.

“Trying to figure out what’s next?” Dean asks, pressing their lips together again and relishing the feel of Cas’s fingers digging into his back.

Cas nods. “I’ve never… I mean… With a man…” He arcs up beneath Dean at one particularly close rub of their cocks together.

“We could…” Dean’s starting to have trouble speaking too. He stops and props himself up over Cas. “Do anything, really. One of us could do the other, or we could just do this.” He emphasizes this with another roll of his hips, smiling at the way Cas’s mouth falls open.

Cas locks his fingers on the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him down frantically, his tongue entwining with Dean’s again. Fuzzily, Dean wonders how bad the stubble chafing around his lips will be in the morning from all of this. Cas’s other hand is still on Dean’s back, caressing up and carefully avoiding the bruises from being thrown across the room.

When Dean reaches down to stroke their cocks together, Cas catches his wrist to stop him. “What if…” he begins, unsure and hesitant. 

“Yeah?” Dean can’t stand to have his lips unoccupied, so he kisses down to Cas’s chest and locks onto one of his nipples. 

“Fuck,” Cas manages brokenly, running a hand over Dean’s head without looking down at him.

The sound of innocent Cas swearing is so strange and funny that Dean glances up, smiling. “Y’ like that, huh?”

But Cas is shaking his head. “No, I mean—I mean, I _do_ , keep doing that—” Dean returns his lips, pressing into the raised pink button and biting lightly before swiping his tongue against it. Cas whimpers and slips his fingers into Dean’s hair. “I mean, actually… Um, fucking,” he says in a low, embarrassed voice, practically cradling Dean’s head against his chest.

Dean lifts up in surprise, still not over Cas swearing. “Okay. Are you sure?” he asks, crossing his arms over Cas’s chest and resting his chin on them. It’s Cas’s first time with a guy – anything they do is bound to be overwhelming.

“Yes,” Cas says simply, reaching for Dean’s elbow and tugging. Dean obliges and climbs back up his body, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of Cas’s shoulders. “I want,” Cas begins, the words interrupted by more kissing, “to…” He tangles his lower legs around Dean’s and brushes his fingers along the stubble of Dean’s jawline before breaking the kiss again. “I want to be inside of you,” Cas finally manages, staring Dean dead in the eye.

Dean’s heart gives another one of those annoying extra-hard pounds. “Of course, Cas,” he agrees, thinking how _ridiculous_ it is how hot Cas’s matter of fact dirty talk is. He hadn’t thought he could possibly be any harder than he was already, but there he is again. “I’m gonna end up… Shit,” he mutters and climbs off of Cas for a respite.

“Is that all right?” Cas asks anxiously, turning onto his side and propping his head on one elbow. “If you don’t wa—”

“No, I want it too,” Dean says to the ceiling, trying to calm down. “I want it so much I’m gonna end up losing it here and now at the thought, so give me a sec.”

Cas’s laugh is low and soul-warming down to Dean’s toes.


	3. i'm done being a coward

It’s been a very long time since Dean was with another guy, honestly. He’s slowed down on sex, period, except for Suzy Lee a couple weeks back, but as far as sleeping with men? Literally years. And he really can’t remember the last time he bottomed. But he wants this, wants _Cas_ , wants him so far inside of Dean that he’ll never lose him again. Will never have to say goodbye. Hell, will never have to _wish_ he’d said good bye after someone or something inevitably rips Cas away.

Cas leans over him, interrupting Dean’s bitter thoughts and pushing him back into the bed before kissing and sucking at Dean’s neck.

“I can’t believe we’ve never…” Dean begins, but a roll of Cas’s hips cuts his sentence short.

“I know,” Cas breathes into his skin. He seals their lips together again. Dean interlocks his hands against the back of Cas’s neck, still thinking of how much he needs him.

Cas pulls back, smiling. He reads something in Dean’s expression and squints, the corners of his mouth falling slightly. “Are you… What are you scared of?” he asks. “We both do want this… don’t we?” Apprehension suddenly begins seeping into his face. Fear of rejection.

God, they’re a pair. Both so afraid of being unwanted and both so lost without the other in spite of the fear. Dean holds his gaze, forcing away the last ounce of self-consciousness. “Cas, I’m done being a coward and running from how I feel, all of… this,” he says clearly. “I _want_ this. _You_.” He pauses a half-second longer to enjoy the wonder on Cas’s face before kissing him again. “Nightstand drawer,” Dean orders, the words slipping into Cas’s mouth. 

Cas turns away. Dean stares at the ceiling again as he listens to the sound of the drawer sliding out. There’s a soft, amazed exhalation, and then Cas is back, holding the bottle of lube Dean keeps in the nightstand. He props himself half-over Dean and barely gets a chance to look from the bottle to Dean before Dean kisses him again, hard and impatient.

After a few seconds, Cas pulls away with laughter in his face. God, Dean could watch that amusement on his face every day for the rest of his life and never, ever get enough. “Is this _all_ we’re going to do?” Cas chuckles.

“I fucking hope not,” Dean says fervently. “Hey, um… you don’t know anything at all about what you’re doing here, do you?” 

Cas bites his lip, examining the bottle of lube again. “I know the… the basics,” he admits, and flushes a beautiful red. “I’ve, um… watched some more, uh…”

“Porns?” Dean finishes for him, grinning. “It’s okay, you can say it.” He retrieves Cas’s free hand and brings it up to his mouth, taking in two fingers. Cas’s breath sharpens. 

Dean can tell from the pressure on his hip _exactly_ how hard Cas is, but he wants him in full take-charge mode. So he looks straight at Cas again and sucks, twisting his tongue between and around Cas’s fingers.

Apparently that’s it for Cas. He rips his hand away and replaces it with urgently crushing lips, reaching down clumsily to lube up his fingers. Dean plants his feet on the bed and shifts his hips up, moaning into Cas’s mouth. _Knew I could get you there_ , he thinks triumphantly.

He shuts his eyes and listens to the splurt of the lubricant sputtering out of the bottle, and then the sound of the bottle being set on the top of the nightstand. And then there’s the coolness and messiness of the lube itself, Cas rubbing it generously around his rim before pushing forward.

His heart’s racing so hard. How is he _ever_ going to last through the actual sex?

Cas slides his lips down Dean’s jawline and neck. He kisses a dozen different spots on Dean’s chest while Dean bows up off the bed a little at the sensation of Cas’s finger moving inside of him. 

“God, Cas…” There are really no more words. Dean almost has to remind himself to keep breathing. His entire world is this, Cas’s finger curling deep within him and Cas’s lips zeroing in on one of his nipples, inexpertly copying what Dean had done earlier.

It’s not enough. “More,” Dean begs, a thousand yards from caring how he sounds. “Please.”

Cas releases his nipple after entirely too short a time—and oh, _oh_ , is he…. He’s actually… Dean watches in stunned amazement as Cas kisses down farther, heading unmistakably toward Dean’s cock. And then he feels a second finger _finally_ start to enter his body. 

Jesus, this man is going to kill him. But what a way to go.

Cas hesitates so long at Dean’s dick that it makes Dean laugh. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he chuckles softly, reaching down and running the backs of his fingers over Cas’s forehead. 

“No, I… I want to, I’m just…” Cas blushes again, his fingers still working within Dean. And then he opens his mouth and goes for it, sinking down over Dean’s length.

Dean’s head tips back into the pillow involuntarily, his shoulders flexing back against the bed and reminding him of the bruises from earlier. “Shit, Cas,” he groans, feeling blindly for Cas’s hair and lacing his fingers through it. In the back of his mind he hears an echo of his own voice from years earlier, flippantly saying _Blow me, Cas_. If he had only known then… If he had gotten over himself _sooner…_

Cas pulls back off of his cock and starts to tongue the head before sliding back down awkwardly. Dean tightens his grip in Cas’s hair, shuddering as the sensations build. But he doesn’t have anywhere near the stamina he used to in his twenties, so heartbreakingly, this is gonna have to be interrupted. He’s already painfully close, and he’s not about to put off the good part for the sake of a (fucking incredible, impossibly hot first timer’s) blow job. 

Dean decided to say enough is enough before he’s too far gone to have any control left. He is absolutely not going to last much longer. He pushes at Cas’s face, gently shoving him back off. “Stop—wait—Cas,” he gasps insistently.

When Cas looks up at him with wet pink lips and pupils that blown, it’s almost as bad an effect as the continued blow job would have been. His still-twisting fingers slow and then stop. “Are you all right?” he asks throatily, brushing the back of his free hand across his mouth.

Dean nods too rapidly. “Yeah, yeah, I j… Not gonna last if you keep blowing me. And I still want _you_ ,” he adds, reaching down between his legs to yank at Cas’s arm. “Keep going, _please_ keep going.” He knows he’s full on begging, and he couldn’t possibly care less right now.

Thankfully, Cas begins to move his fingers again, spreading them apart within Dean and twisting back and forth. He presses his lips to Dean’s skin again, but travels the opposite direction now and dots his hip, stomach, chest with quick kisses.

“Doubt me now?” Dean says, trying to joke. It comes out too whiny to have much effect. “Hurry up.”

Cas kisses the nipple that hadn’t gotten attention earlier, flattening his tongue against it before sucking. “I’m scared of hurting you,” he confesses when he lets go. “I want to make sure you’re ready.” At last, he pushes a third finger in and begins working it with the others.

Dean grits his teeth, trying to scoot further down the bed, seeking more of Cas’s fingers. “Cas, I’ve taken dicks before. Come _on_ now.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks, brow furrowing. Dean can’t take it anymore and hooks his arms under Cas’s armpits to haul him up to kiss him like Cas has another death due tomorrow. Dean forgets everything about how to speak, but hopefully Cas knows what he’s saying in the way Dean is grasping at him, one hand twisted in Cas’s dark hair and the other digging into the small of his back. When they part, Cas searches Dean’s face, and his mouth falls open. “You _are_ ….” he breathes, stunned.

Dean can’t say anything for a moment past the gasps he needs to refill his lungs. “No shit, huh?” he gets out eventually, still panting. “Fucking _do_ me already.”

Cas exhales and then nods, pulling his fingers free and quickly wiping them off on the covers. He lines up between Dean’s thighs, pressing his knees into the bed while Dean lifts his legs to curl around Cas’s waist. And then he’s gripping the crooks between Dean’s hips and thighs and hauling him down so their bodies are flush and angled right. 

Unbelievably, there are actual flutters in Dean’s stomach as Cas begins breaching his entrance. For how bare he is – emotionally as well as physically, obviously – this might as well be his first time all over again. His breath comes in splintered little pants of air as Cas’s cock continues to slip slowly inside him.

About halfway home, Cas stops, resting his weight on his hands and bracketing Dean. “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he begs.

Dean tilts his head up and kisses him. “I’m fine,” he says. “Please. More.” He licks into Cas’s mouth slowly, enjoying the taste of his tongue and the joy of the exploration. 

In reality, Dean had been in a _small_ hurry earlier, and he’s not as open as he could have been (although this is unspeakably awesome, and he _has_ bottomed before after being under-prepared and still enjoyed the sex). There’s a slow burn that’s evenly balanced with the overwhelming pleasure, but damned if he’s going to acknowledge it. The pain will go away soon anyway now that Cas is moving. Or was, anyway. 

Dean clutches at the small of Cas’s back, frantically trying to get more of him, and grunts as Cas slips forward again. Maybe a bit too loud; Cas withdraws his tongue and breaks the kiss. He pulls away from Dean and tilts his head slightly. His eyebrows are down; he’s reproachful, not confused. 

Busted.

Dean grins innocently. “Yes?”

“You didn’t let me get you completely ready,” Cas accuses.

Dean huffs. “Well, it’s not like I’m not adjusting _now_ ,” he points out. He hooks his ankles around each other behind Cas’s ass insistently. “Come on, big boy. Get on with it.”

Cas sighs. “Dean… I told you I didn’t want to hurt you.” He pushes his hands harder into the bed, like he’s bracing himself to get up. “We’re both injured anyway—”

“Cas, you pull out of me, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” Dean says firmly. Cas meets his gaze again. “ _Please_.” And maybe it’s the fact that it’s the fourth “please” he’s dropped in the last however many minutes (seriously, he’s never felt so polite, but Cas somehow keeps dragging it forth without a second thought). Or maybe it’s the fact that, embarrassingly, Dean’s voice actually breaks. But whatever the reason, Cas’s expression softens, and he nods, lowering himself to kiss Dean again.


	4. overwhelming

Cas doesn’t go fast enough for Dean yet. He takes what feels like entirely too long to slide all the way home, and when he’s inside, he drops almost all the way down over Dean’s torso, bracing his weight on his forearms and resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean curls his hands up Cas’s back and slips one into his hair. “God, Cas,” he whispers, stomach still doing those weird butterfly things again.

“It’s…”

“What?” Dean chuckles, trailing his right fingers along Cas’s back. 

Cas shivers into his touch. “Overwhelming,” he eventually manages. “I-I knew it was… But… This is…”

“It’ll get a whole lot better when you start _moving_ ,” Dean grins. He tightens the lock of his calves around Cas. “Or am I just too hot for you to stand?”

Evidently, Cas is done with Dean’s attitude. He rolls his eyes and begins to move, pulling jerkily back from Dean and then thrusting in again, slow and uncoordinated and beautifully determined. Dean drags his palms down Cas’s face, pressing their lips together, licking in and opening him up.

Dean’s nearly dizzy with this, with the repeated realization hitting him of _Cas. This is Cas. Cas._ Something he’s wanted for years and forced down over and over again – hell, something he denied for way too long he even _felt_ – is _really, actually_ happening. For years, Cas had taken up space in his mind. So much a part of their lives, of _Dean_ , that he’s somehow managed to sneak past that last barrier Dean has protecting himself. 

In all of his romantic relationships, Dean has held back a fraction of an inch. Just a thin layer, nearly invisible but unequivocal. Covering himself with a protective skin of indifference. He’s always held most people at a slight distance, unable to let them _that_ far under his skin no matter how much he tries. Nobody, except obviously Sam, has been allowed to get that much to him. To get that far inside.

And most of those he’s been with didn’t realize. Cassie was of the few who had known it was there; one of the reasons they broke up. Lisa had never suspected, but then again, Dean really did try with her, so she didn’t have as much reason to.

And now this.

 _Cas_. Cas has slipped in, living quite comfortably deep within Dean for entirely too long. He’s somehow pulled Dean outside of himself and into something new and scary and amazing.

After a few minutes, Cas lifts his mouth away from Dean’s, slowing his hips. Dean’s eyelids flutter open in confusion. “Cas?” He slides his hands down along Cas’s sides to his waist, thumbing his hipbones. “You okay?”

“I’m…” Cas almost stops thrusting entirely. He gazes down at Dean while he rocks forward slowly, such blatant affection on his face that Dean’s actually kind of intimidated. “I’m glad we’re…”

Dean lifts one of the corners of his lips involuntarily. “Me too, Cas.” He hopes Cas knows, somehow, that he thinks of this moment as one of the best things in his life. He can’t quite formulate the words, even in his own mind, but he has a feeling that they’re written into the smile on his face anyway. He glances down awkwardly. “Now, come on. Move. Jackass.”

And then Cas _does_ stop his movements entirely, halfway out of Dean and suddenly motionless. “Dean, if you’re going to call me names, I don’t think I’m going to continue.” 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean babbles desperately, squeezing bruises into Cas’s hips, trying to bring him forward. “Please, I’m sorry, just…”

Lines fan out at the edges of Cas’s eyes, and when he laughs this time, he shows way too much gum. “See, Dean? I can tease you, too.”

“Not cool,” Dean splutters as Cas _finally_ drives forward and picks up the pace again. “ _God_ , Cas…”

Cas kisses him. “A little blasphemous, but better than before.”

“Shut up.” And then Dean decides it’s really not important anymore to talk when they could be using their lips and tongues for other purposes. They kiss like teenagers, wet and insistent and completely consumed.

By the time Dean had realized _exactly how far_ Cas got inside him, it was too late to pretend otherwise. The first time it hit him was the moment he, Sam, and Bobby were standing in a too-clean house, flames trapping his best friend as he looked at Dean, wordlessly admitting his betrayal.

Every other “loss” after that hurt perhaps a millimeter less after the first time, but the edge was still there, rough and jagged and cutting. 

Standing by helplessly as Cas declared himself God and left; standing by helplessly as he collapsed after releasing the souls; standing by helplessly as the Leviathan marched his vessel under the surface of the reservoir water. The shock of seeing him again, married and amnesiac and staring back at Dean with confused familiarity. Being forced to leave him behind broken and insane in a hospital. That moment in Purgatory when he whipped around and Cas was gone. (Never mind that Cas later told him why – at the time, Dean was sure either it was an abandonment he couldn’t understand the reasons for, or something had gotten Cas when Dean wasn’t watching.) Beating the hell out of Dean, confusing the fuck out of him, and vanishing without explaining anything.

Dean’s fingers slip along the sweat on Cas’s nape now, carding through his dampened hair. He whimpers at a particularly hard thrust, and Cas kisses a line down Dean’s neck to the hollow of his throat.

 _That_ , Dean thinks, is why he’s subconsciously tried to keep people from getting 100% to him. How many different varieties of separation and pain there really are – even ones he’s never imagined could exist (who could really imagine losing somebody to _Leviathan_?). This is why he’s had that wall: because of how many different ways loss can slash and devastate. It’s almost painful to be this much in love with somebody.

Cas draws his lips back up to Dean’s, kissing him slowly and gentler this time, no tongue. He stops for a second, and Dean opens his eyes again. “What are you thinking?” Cas whispers.

It happens entirely out of his control. “I love you,” Dean tells him, before he even really realizes what he’s saying.

The look on Cas’s face… “I love you, too, Dean,” he breathes, gazing at him like he’s the goddamn sun and stars and moon all at once before crashing his mouth back down to Dean’s.

Apparently, the words have ignited something in Cas, because he gears up for the big finale and starts to slam into Dean. His momentum pushes Dean’s still-aching shoulders into the bed, but it barely registers in the back of his mind. More important right now is the ragged edge of Cas’s stubble against his lower lip and the way Cas is trying _so_ hard to hit his prostate from this angle. Dean shifts the position of his lower legs to help him out, and— _oh, fuck_ , yep, there it is. 

Dean emits a string of vague consonants, clutching at the slippery surface of Cas’s back. He tightens his legs’ hold around Cas’s waist, more because he needs to hang onto something to ground him than because he needs Cas any deeper. He’s already seeing stars.

Cas supports his weight on one arm and reaches with the other between their bodies for Dean’s neglected erection. He jerks Dean quickly in time with his thrusts, fingers a little too snug but Dean doesn’t care because he’s tipping over the edge now, every muscle in his body tightening and his vision paling around the edges. His own wetness hits his stomach as Cas’s grip slows.

And then Cas shudders into him, and there’s a slick warmth deep within before Cas collapses on his chest, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder, his back rapidly rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Dean…” he rasps after a while.

“I know,” Dean tells him, rubbing his fingers down along Cas’s spine. “You’re okay.” Cas shifts to pull out, and Dean straightens his legs flat along the bed before Cas lies back half-over him, their legs entwined.

After a while, Cas flops over to his back. They lie side by side, staring at the ceiling in worn-out astonishment for several minutes. Finally, Dean glances over. “Hey, Cas,” he says, turning onto his side. “There’s some tissues in the drawer too.” He holds out a hand, wiggling his fingers back and forth expectantly.

When Cas rolls over to rummage through the night stand, Dean watches the span of his back, muscles flexing as he searches through all the crap that has accumulated. Dean can’t resist lining up against Cas and kissing into the side of his neck.

“Dean…” Cas laughs, not looking back as Dean drapes an arm around him. “I’m going to need some recovery time before we do anything else.”

“Mmm. I know.” Dean kisses the skin below Cas’s ear. “Couldn’t help it.” He reaches for some of the tissues Cas is holding and scoots back to his side of the bed.

They quickly determine that tissues aren’t going to be enough. Between the lube and the come and the sweat, they quickly run out, and this really is a job better suited for water. But the endorphins have done their job on Dean, and he’s too worn out to go anywhere. “Cas, can you go grab some wet washcloths?” he says tiredly.

Cas exhales in amusement. “Why _me_?”

“Cause you just fucked me limbless, that’s why,” Dean nearly slurs. “I can’t _move_.” He pushes at Cas’s shoulder, trying to shove him to the edge of the bed. Cas holds his ground, though, and Dean’s really too beat to make more of an effort. “Please, man?”

“Fine, Dean.” Cas sighs. “But what do I tell Sam if he’s—”

Dean shakes his head. “You happen to notice how fast he got the hell out of Dodge? He’s smart. Won’t come out of his room till morning.”

“All right, then. I’ll be back soon.” Rather than getting fully dressed, Cas retrieves Dean’s gray robe and shrugs into it. Dean smiles slowly, his worn-out dick twitching in fatigued curiosity at the sight, and thinks how he wouldn’t mind more of Cas wearing his clothes. 

When Cas returns, he’s got an extra washcloth, and they use this one to dab at the scrapes and cuts from the hunt that they’d nearly managed to forget about till now. Cas notices a deeper cut on the back of Dean’s upper arm and kisses it when it’s clean.

Once they’re no longer sticky and messy, sleep is impossible to resist. Cas pillows his head on Dean’s shoulder, one arm holding onto his chest as if he’s worried Dean will leave.

But Dean’s not going anywhere soon. He pulls at the blankets to cover them partially and rests his other hand at the top of Cas’s back, just behind his shoulder.

Cas drifts off first, his breath blowing steadily across Dean’s chest. Dean smiles exhaustedly down at him and presses his lips to Cas’s dark hair.

There’s absolutely no way he could ever say out loud the thoughts he’s having right now. Not even to Cas himself. But as sleep gets a firmer hold on him, and awareness become fuzzier, inhibitions about girly thoughts fall away. Dean thinks to himself that it feels like he’s home: Here, the Bunker, Sam, hunting, the world between apocalypses (for now). 

And _Cas_. The way Cas is smiling in his sleep when Dean looks over at him. How Cas’s hand is still holding onto his chest, claiming him, keeping him. Dean’s world subtly shifting into its right place as he falls asleep.

He’s _home_.

[end]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending notes: I have never, ever wanted Dean to say “I love you” in a fic. It’s not the kind of thing he’d be able to say out loud (and I completely agree with Jensen wrt the crypt scene in 8x17. I also think “I need you” _is_ Dean’s “I love you”). However, it just sort of… happened, almost against my will (kinda like it was written :P ).


	5. song list

Songs! And not just the list - actual links! :o

*** = If you open these in new tabs to listen to while you read/FB/Tumblr/work on your own stuff etc, the songs that are starred are part of a playlist and will start playing other stuff afterward.

 **["Make It Out Alive" – Hanson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sC1eFF9Mxy0)**  
When Dean’s swearing that if they ever get out of this alive... I didn’t plan on three Hanson songs, but it’s cool, leaving it on here.

 **["Lost You" – Nine Days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSdwMi-ISV8)**  
The version of this song I have is _way_ more upbeat than its title, and its placement (Dean thinks he lost Cas) would suggest. One of my favorite Nine Days songs, although I could not find the faster version that's a million times better. :(

 **[“Tell Her This” – Del Amitri](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBXy9u7Gcds)**  
I know, pronouns, but really fitting. The passage it inspired:  
_It’s like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff or something, Dean thinks distantly, too lost within Cas’s eyes to come up with a better simile. And there’s plenty of room, hell, plenty of reason, to back off to safety. But more waiting on that other side here. If he can just bring himself to fall…_  
From the line _From this high terrain, I am ready now to fall._

 **["Disease" – Matchbox 20](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5zttEPcCuQ)**  
I thought this was more upbeat and lovesongy than the lyrics actually suggest, but I liked it enough to incorporate anyway. :P Located in the car ride home when Dean’s re-thinking “why did I kiss him??” and thinking he’s sick.

 **["Why Do You Love Me?" – Garbage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcrv9nhH9iY)**  
I was scanning through my iTunes library, found this, and was like “Oh holy Dean mindset!” Also located during the car ride of self-hatred.

 **["Till The Day I Die" – Garbage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1SEKYTM5fU)** ***  
Placed during the frenzied kissing as they get to and into the bedroom and Dean remembers Cas walking into the barn in episode 4x01.

 **[“Deeper” – Hanson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1MEOOuWHHI)**  
Very, very briefly referenced when they’re kissing. The line about every touch making him fall apart.

 **["Lost Without Each Other" – Hanson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HW9n7bGjqAA)** ***  
When Cas is afraid Dean doesn’t want the sex, and Dean’s thinking how they’re a pair cause they’re lost without the other, and reassures Cas that he’s done with running from this, that he wants it too. This is the last fast song. From here on out it's all slow dances, kids.

 **["Colorblind" – Counting Crows](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0s7ycdUcHk)** ***  
Faaaaaaaaaaav. It inspired that lengthy passage (which I did try to break up between kisses & such) about how Dean hasn’t truly let anybody in until Cas. <3

 **["The Moment" – Nine Days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zw1Vm845Vho)** ***  
When Cas is like “I’m glad we’re [doing this]” and Dean agrees but can’t really speak, hoping the smile tells Cas everything he’s feeling.

 **["Home" – Vanessa Carlton](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-RHfaJgHBE)**  
Not sure why this song gives me so many Destiel feels :P I also did [an image set](http://yahtzee-awesome-sonofabitch.tumblr.com/post/109694272719/and-even-now-when-im-alone-ive-always-known) with lyrics from this song. Goes at the end, obviously.


End file.
